Harry Potter and the Last Horcrux
by lotr325
Summary: Harry only has 2 Horcruxes left to find and destroy, but he is on the verge of collapse. Can he save the wizarding world? Contains suicidial themes and cutting
1. Never Forget

This story is basically my idea of what could happen in the next Harry Potter book. To me it just makes so much sense.

As a warning, this story does contain cutting, and suicidal themes. If this makes you squeamish please do not continue.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

Harry James Potter watched as the flames licked hungrily at the dry wood. His green eyes, although glinting with triumph, were far older than his 17 years. His eyes bore a silent witness to all of the horror and tragedy that he had seen in his short life. All of the death and betrayal haunted his dreams, and made him start awake with a scream on his lips. As the smoke curled up toward the star filled night sky, The-Boy-Who-Lived threw the leather pouch clutched in his hand into the fire. An unearthly scream filled the air, and the teenager clutched at the scar that adorned his forehead. Pain rippled through his head, and Harry felt Voldemort's anger and hatred. A chuckle, devoid of humor, passed his lips.

Yet another horcrux had been destroyed. Now there were only 2 remaining. His shoulders slumped in weariness for a moment and the mask fell, revealing the young boy beneath, full of grief and loneliness. For a second his shoulders shook and a scream nearly ripped itself out of him. But in the next instant, his shoulders straightened and his mask dropped neatly back into place, all signs of his grief and loneliness gone. Harry Potter watched the fire for several more minutes enjoying the smell of the burning wood. The smoke permeated his robes, and he knew that as soon as he returned to his flat Dobby would insist that he take a shower. A nearly invisible smile touched Harry's mouth as he thought of the exuberant house elf. If it weren't for Dobby, Harry knew that he wouldn't take care of himself.

The war was worsening and had been for the better part of the year. Attacks from the Death Eaters came often and without warning. Hundreds of innocent men women and children had been murdered or tortured to insanity and Harry felt every single death profoundly. He had a list in his flat with the names of all of Voldemort's victims.  
_Michelle Walters, Amelia Bones, Cornelius Fudge, Albus Dumbledore, Henry Dickerson, Bill Weasley, Sara Spradley, Cynthia Meyers, Pomona Sprout..._ the list was endless, and Harry felt as if every single one was his fault.  
Some days the guilt was so bad that he just wished that he could end it all. Sometimes Harry would find himself fingering the edge of a shiny silver meat cleaver and wondering absently if it would hurt when it when it went through his heart. But, somehow he always managed to pull back from the edge and go on with his life. Or the small semblance of a life that he had.

His days were consumed with finding and destroying the Horcruxes that contained Voldemort's fractured soul, and his nights were restless and sleepless as he battled the ghosts of his tortured past. There was no escape for Harry Potter. Harry put out the fire with a single word and a flick of his wand. Without the warmth of the flames, the chill of the night air cut through his robes and the teenager wrapped his arms around himself as he started the long walk back to his flat. Harry loved the nighttime. It seemed to reflect his moods. When it was sunny outside, everyone was smiling and happy. Harry was never happy anymore. And he never smiled. He had forgotten how. It was when Remus Lupin, Harry's last link to his parents, had been driven mad by the Cruciatus curse, that Harry had lost all motivation to smile. Harry James Potter was no longer a child.

Halfway to his flat, Harry abruptly changed his mind and decided to visit Hogwarts. He felt an unexplainable need to discover the last two Horcruxes and the Hogwarts library was the best place to start. Despite his exhaustion, Harry apparated to Hogsmeade and began the walk up to the castle that he still considered home. He pushed open the heavy doors, and stepped into the school. Harry sighed and it seemed that a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders. It was as if a pair of warm, loving arms had encircled him in a hug. A genuine smile touched his lips briefly as he strode up the stairs to his own personal suite. Stopping in front a portrait of a ship on a storm tossed sea, Harry whispered his password

"Never Forget".

The portrait swung aside, and Harry passed through the lounge into his bedroom and collapsed on the richly furnished bed. He was asleep in seconds.

"_It seems that Harry Potter has destroyed yet another horcrux." Voldemort hissed, his narrow eyes flaming red. "I do NOT tolerate failure! I instructed you to keep them safe, and yet you fail time and time again."_

_The gathered Death Eaters cowered in terror, and Voldemort smiled. He could smell their fear and it gave him strength. He gloried in the terror and chaos that he created. Perhaps it was time to show his servants what it meant to cross the Dark Lord. He had been rather lenient of late, and it was starting to show._

"_Crucio!" he yelled leveling his wand at the nearest Death Eater. The anguished screams filled his ears. To Voldemort, a well orchestrated scream was more beautiful than the finest symphony by Vivaldi or Handel. There were many levels of a scream, and Voldemort was an expert in extracting the glorious sounds, as a master would coax the last quavering note from a violin. _

_The curse was lifted and Voldemort turned on the rest of his followers and smiled, a smile that made even the bravest of men shrink in their shoes. _

"_I think that it is time I taught you all a lesson." he laughed and began the enjoyable task of torturing all of his servants. Screams bounced off the walls and ceilings as Voldemort created a symphony that only he could appreciate._

Harry awoke early the next morning. His eyes were grimy with sleep, and he could smell the smoke and sweat that coated his body. With a groan, he slid off the bed and padded across the room to the bathroom, where he took a long shower.

Dressing quickly in a set of emerald green robes, Harry fixed a smile on his face, and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.  
He knew that everyone expected him to be happy and confident, so that was the mask that he put on. Only Harry knew how fragile his grasp on hope and sanity truely was.

He stepped into the Hall, and waited. It didn't take long. A shriek echoed through the room as a small red haired girl raced across the hall and flung herself into his arms. Harry felt warmth spread through him, as he gave Ginny Weasley a quick kiss. She beamed at him and dragged him over to the Gryffindor table where Ron and Hermione waited.

Ron shook his hand firmly and Hermione gave him a tearful hug.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked, piling food high on his plate.

Harry allowed himself to grin, even though it didn't reach his eyes.  
"Yeah mate. I got it. It's gone for good."

A sigh of relief made its way down the table.

"Only two more then" Hermione noted. She reached down and pulled a thick dusty tome from her bookbag. "Here Harry. I found this in the library. It might help you find the last ones."

Harry nodded his thanks and peered at the intricate lettering on the cover.

"_The Inner Workings of a Dark Lord's Mind_"

Harry snorted at the title. There was no way that anyone could understand the way a deranged bloodthirsty psychopath thought. But it was worth a try. Anything at this point was worth a try.

"I found this too." Hermione said hesitantly. She handed him a narrow book that appeared to be bound in snakeskin. "I can't read it, but since it's made from snakeskin, I thought that maybe it was written in parseltongue. There might be something useful in there, if you can read it."

Harry stared at the sibilant inscription that dominated the cover. As he concentrated, the writing seemed to shift into something resembling English, but the strange twisting of the script made it hard to decipher.

"Thanks Mione. I think you may be onto something." For her benefit, Harry forced a real smile.

She looked pleased and went back to her food.

Harry only picked at his plateful of breakfast. He wasn't really hungry this morning. He had dreamed last night and hadthe impression that it was important, but he couldn't remember any of it. At least his scar hadn't been burning. That meant that his mental shields had blocked any dreams from Voldemort.

After several minutes of mindless chatter, Ginny turned to Harry. There was a serious look in her brown eyes. She took Harry's hand.

"Harry, there's been word on Snape's location."

Harry tensed up. He felt hatred welling up in him, as it always did when he thought of the traitorous bastard. He pushed it away, but the bitterness stayed, contorting his face into a mask of contempt.

"Where?"

Ginny swallowed hard.  
"In Wales. He was only briefly spotted and he had Draco Malfoy with him. He is obviously on a mission of some importance to You-Know-Who."

Harry sighed. He knew what was coming.  
"And the Order wants me to seek Voldemort out through the link don't they?"

Ginny nodded sadly.  
"I know you don't want to, but it's the only way to save lives."

Harry glowered. He hated the Order. They knew that he was always hounded with guilt for the deaths and used that to manipulate him into doing whatever they wanted him to do. If there was even a chance that it could prevent even one death, Harry would do it.

"When?" he asked.

"Tonight."

He nodded stiffly, and stood.  
"I've lost my appetite. Excuse me."

Harry spent the rest of the day prepping himself for his foray into the mind of Voldemort. His preparations usually consisted of reading through the lists of innocent victims, and getting at least slightly tipsy. Today however was different. He was still in the middle of a depression, and the mere thought of viewing Voldemort's plans for killing more people made him want to cry. He sat and stared blankly into the fire for hours reminding himself why he allowed himself to be used by the Order.

As the afternoon began to fade into evening and the shadows on the wall lengthened, Harry went into the bathroom. He felt almost as if he was separate from his body. He was watching himself pull a razor from the cabinet above the sink. He watched sadly as he pressed the keen blade to the skin of his inner forearm. He suddenly found himself back in his body. The narrow edge of the razor sliced his skin cleanly and blood beaded on the edge of the incision. When the surface tension was too great, the beads of crimson blood dripped onto the floor and smeared on the pale skin of his arm. Without noticing the pain, Harry slowly etched the words "Never Forget" onto his arm. Harry James Potter would never forget.

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Well, what do you think? Any good? Please review!


	2. Death Eaters?

Here's the next chapter. I hope you guys are enjoying this story. I'm having a blast writing it.

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Chapter 2

The howling wind tore across the Welsh landscape, bending the tall grasses to the ground, and making violent ripples on the usually tranquil lake. The gray clouds moved swiftly overhead, causing shadows to race across the hills, promising rain at some not so distant time.

On the shore of the lake, a fire valiantly tried to survive, but the wind forced it out of existence almost as soon as it flickered into life. Two men huddled over the spluttering flames, trying in vain to coax the tiny fire to life. The taller of the men sat back on his heels, a scowl etched deeply on his lined face. His dark fathomless eyes gave voice to the hardness of his life.

Without expression, he murmured a warming spell over his cloak and the thick coal black robes beneath. He turned to the other man, and repeated the spell. The young man looked up. His youthful face was hard, and his grey eyes without spirit. It was obvious that this man had been forced to grow up far too soon.

"Thank you Severus." the blond man said quietly.

The older man merely nodded.

A crash of thunder echoed across the desolate landscape and the lightening lit the swiftly darkening sky for a split second. Night was well on his way, his cloak of darkness enveloping the world.

Without words, for words were not needed, the young man erected a small tent that tried to blow away with the wind, but several heavy stakes kept the dirty achromatic tent firmly on the ground.

"Thank you Draco." Severus said softly.

The other man nodded, and crawled into the tent and wrapped himself into his blankets. Severus joined him a few moments later, and soon the sounds of even breathing could be heard.

_Through a haze of despair and the terrible knowledge of his oath, Severus heard someone speak his name very quietly,_

_"Severus."_

_The sound frightened Severus and he slowly and painfully turned to face his mentor, his father figure. Albus Dumbledore was pleading with him. As if from a great distance, Severus saw the horror on the Potter boy's face. He walked forward and pushed Draco out of the way. He had no choice but to follow through. For Draco's sake. Severus gazed for a moment at Albus, and knew the revulsion and hatred that he felt for himself were obvious on his face. _

_"Severus...please..."_

_With an internal scream of defiance Severus raised his wand and pointed it directly at Albus. In the Headmaster's blue eyes, Severus saw forgiveness and acceptance. Severus felt a sudden surge of resentment for the old man. Dumbledore had known that this was going to happen. And was going to let it happen._

_"_Avada Kedavra_!"_

_Severus watched as the jet of green light shot from the end of his wand and hit Albus squarely in the chest. As if in slow motion, the light left the Headmaster's eyes and his body fell over the battlements and out of sight. A silent scream of agony rippled through his soul._

_It was over..._

Severus Snape sat bolt upright breathing heavily. It was the nightmare again. It was always the same one, and Severus knew that the guilt for his actions would linger forever. Next to him, Draco stirred, but Severus put a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder, and he rolled over and pulled his blankets closer about his rail thin body. A fond light lit the older man's eyes for a moment. Draco was all he had left. Bitterness and anger surged through him. The damned Dark Lord had managed to take everything from him. And even now, he stole Severus' peace. The mark burned onto his forearm burned constantly, a reminder of his betrayal. A snort of sardonic amusement betrayed the irony of the situation. A double agent always betrays both sides. There was no way around it. And now, Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy were fugitives, hiding from the Dark Lord, and hiding from the Ministry. It was a bleak way to live. At least, he and Draco were going to accomplish something. They were going to destroy a Horcrux.

Severus had discovered the location of this particular one in the course of his research for the Dark Lord. He had revealed the information to Dumbledore, but the Headmaster had wanted Potter to take care of it. A sneer of real disgust crossed Severus' face. How he hated that boy. It was a wonder that he had managed to survive so many encounters with the Dark Lord. The child was a walking disaster almost as bad as Longbottom. Severus had very little faith in the Boy-Who-Lived. It was all a bunch of propaganda, and unless Potter grew up overnight, there was no hope for the wizarding world. With a nearly invisible sigh, Severus lay back and pulled his thick wool cloak about his shoulders. It was no use going over the past. It had already happened, and all that Severus could do was make the best of bad situation.

The morning came too quickly for one Draco Malfoy. The sun rose, but only a sickly pale light was able to penetrate the thick cloud layer and actually warm the earth. Draco was by nature, a rather lazy individual. He had always had everything. And that included sleeping until noon or later. But ever since the "incident" last year, he had been up at the crack of dawn. With a tired groan, Draco sat up, letting the blankets pool around his waist. It only took a quick glance to see that Severus was already awake. A tantalizing aroma drifted through the mostly closed tent flaps. Draco's eyes lit up. Coffee. Where Severus had found it, Draco didn't know, but the smell of richly bitter roasted coffee beans, did more to improve his mood then that night last year with Blaise... Draco rushed out of the tent and into the gloomy Welsh morning. Severus looked up and amusement sparked in his dark eyes for a split second.

"Draco. I see you smelled the coffee."

All dignity gone, Draco scrambled for the tin mug that his godfather was holding out to him. With an audible sigh of ecstasy, Draco took his first sip. The flavor burst on his tongue, and despite the boiling heat of the liquid, he let it linger in his mouth until he could resist the need to swallow no longer.

After the initial few sips, Draco turned a curious eye to his guardian.

"Why the coffee Severus?"

The older man set down his own mug and laced his slender fingers together.

"Today we should reach the resting place of the Horcrux." a gleam of anticipation lit his eyes. "If all goes according to plan, we should have it destroyed by nightfall."

Draco felt his stomach clench in nervousness. This was the ultimate act of betrayal. In one fell swoop, he would be defying his father and the Dark Lord that he had been raised to revere.

Swallowing hard, he nodded.

"What's the plan?"

Severus nodded in approval, affection glimmering in the depths of his eyes.

"We will come upon the cave about mid afternoon." He gestured vaguely with his hand toward the hills. "Then we will of course have to dismantle the protections. I do not know what those will be, so we must be on our guard." Severus took another sip of the coffee, now nearly cold, as he thought. "The Horcrux is an ornamental dagger. According to my research, it is about the length of my hand from wrist to the tip of my index finger. The blade is magically hardened gold, and the hilt is emerald etched with Celtic runes."

Draco listened intently as his godfather explained how the dagger would be destroyed. He stayed thoughtfully silent as they struck the tent and gathered their scanty belongings.

Draco had always been loyal to his father. Even after his botched mission to assassinate Dumbledore, he had remained faithful. But, spending so many weeks with Severus, who's own allegiances were somewhat foggy, had altered his perceptions. It was only very recently that the young Malfoy heir had made the tentative decision that perhaps maiming and slaughtering muggles wasn't the best sort of politics. Their self appointed mission to destroy the remaining Horcruxes, was a bit extreme for Draco. He was still enjoying his seat on the fence, but wanting to make his godfather happy, Draco went along with the plan. Besides, where else could he go? His father would kill him for his failure to kill the Headmaster and the Ministry would send him straight to Azkaban for the attempted murder of the Headmaster. So really Draco was stuck.

His silence lasted well into the day. The wind had died down during the night, to be replaced with tiny drops of rain that stung his face. The hills were looming very close by the time Severus allowed them to stop for a few moments. Draco's stomach growled a little, but he had learned to ignore it. It had been a long time since he had eaten a midday meal. If he imagined hard enough, Draco could almost smell roast chicken dripping with rich broth, creamy potatoes smothered in butter and gravy, carrots with crystallized brown sugar, and apple pie with smooth sweet vanilla ice cream that melted on the tongue. Draco shook his head to clear the images. It would do no good to dwell on it. He stretched, reveling in the cracks that his back made. Severus rolled his eyes in disgust, and stood. Draco followed his lead and together the two men resumed their journey.

Just as the sun was touching the hills, Draco and Severus reached the cave. Severus carefully cast a revealing spell, hoping to uncover any traps. Nothing. With extreme caution, and his wand raised, Severus stepped into the dank cave. When nothing immediately attacked him, he motioned for Draco to join him. Draco murmured _lumos_ under his breath and a dim light illuminated the cave.

The walls seemed to have been fortified with thick stone blocks, that were damp and mildewing with age. Severus wrinkled his nose. Well, that accounted for the smell. They had only gone a few feet into the cave, when with a groan and a crash, the entrance to the cave disappeared. Next to Severus, Draco jumped and swore loudly in disgruntlement. Severus motioned for the boy to be quiet, but it was too late.  
There was a sound of stone grinding against stone, and in the dim light of Draco's spell, Severus saw a wave of gravel and small stones rushing toward them from the passageway. This time Severus was the one to let out a rather vile word. He yanked the frozen Draco to the side and pressed himself and his godson against the wall. The wave of rock fragments rushed past, quickly filling the small space. Severus knew that if they did not hurry, they would be buried alive beneath several tons of gravel. So, using a quick spell for traction, he ran up the piles of rock, pulling Draco behind him. They dove through what was left of the passageway entrance, and crawled as fast as possible through the tunnel that was rapidly filling up with crushed rock. With a gasp, the two men burst free of the tunnel and rock.

After some extensive coughing, Severus straightened up and surveyed the room they were in. It had obviously been someone's home log ago, for there was a threadbare rug on the ground that disintegrated into dust when Draco stepped on it, a bed in one corner, and an ancient oil lamp sitting on a rickety table in the center of the room.

"Don't touch anything!" Severus commanded softly. He was quite certain that there were at least several booby traps scattered around the room.

Draco rolled his eyes, as if to say "duh", but obediently put his hands into the pockets of his grungy cargo pants.

With a silent understanding, Draco started at one end of the room, and Severus the other. Severus walked slowly, studying the walls for any runes. It was a pity that he had forgotten the floor. Without realizing it, he stepped on a rune, etched deeply into the hard soil of the ground. As soon as his booted foot came into contact with the symbol, a section of the wall moved aside. From the newly revealed darkness, came the enticing aroma of food. Severus could almost taste the smoked salmon, dry white wine, and baby peas on his tongue. Without really thinking, he stepped into the darkness, ignoring Draco's shouts. All he could concentrate on was the smell of food.

Draco followed his godfather, wand held out before him in an offensive position. He wasn't sure what it was that had enchanted Severus, but he was going to be there to rescue him. About halfway down the tunnel, Draco could smell rotting meat. Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. Uneasiness welled up inside of him. Why would he be smelling rotting meat unless...there was something carnivorous at the end of this tunnel... Draco burst into a stumbling run. He had to get to Severus before whatever was on the other end did.

Draco burst into the chamber at the end of the tunnel, knocking over his godfather. Draco rolled off Severus and was about to stand, when a large taloned foot appeared in front of him.

He looked up fearfully.

"Shit." he swore.

A large gryffin was staring down at him, hunger glinting in it's large unblinking eyes. At some point, the beast must've been impressively beautiful, but long years of captivity had dulled it's once golden coat to a murky brown, and any intelligence had long since been destroyed by insane hunger. It's long tail twitched in anticipation.

Draco was wide eyed in horror. There was no way out of this. It was a well known fact that gryffins were immune to magic. There was only one way to kill a gryffin. Draco looked desperately to Severus for help, but the older man was unconscious, blood trickling from a nasty cut on his forehead. With shaking hands, Draco very slowly drew his wand from beneath him. At the movement, the gryffin screamed in anger and reared up on it's strong hind legs. Draco rolled quickly out of the way of the deadly talons and came up holding his wand. He looked around desperately for something to transfigure, while the gryffin charged him. Dodging out of the way, Draco pointed his wand at the rucksack next to Severus' limp form and shouted the spell. With a shimmer, the rucksack was replaced by a long silver spear. He dove for the weapon, just as the starving creature reached out for him. A talon caught in Draco's side, and he screamed as white hot agony coursed through him. Trying to ignore the hot blood dripping down his side, Draco grabbed the spear, rolled to face his attacker, and stabbed upward. The spear entered the gryffin just below the breastbone. An ear shattering squeal burst from the creature as it sank to it's haunches, the silver spear protruding from it's chest. Draco weakly backed away, his strength leaving him along with his blood. He watched as the light finally left the gryffin's eyes and the body slumped to the ground. Draco crept painfully over to Severus, and with a whispered spell, woke the older man.

With a groan, Severus opened his eyes.

"Draco?"

"Severus." Draco managed to grunt before he passed out.

Severus watched in horror as his godson crumpled into a boneless heap. He saw the blood staining the ground and Draco's side and the dead gryffin. He suddenly understood what had happened. Severus tore off Draco's shirt, and winced at the gaping wound in the boy's side. The blood had clotted along the gash that spanned fully half of Draco's abdomen so the older man was unable to see the extent of the damage. Worry tightening in his chest, Severus gently cleaned the wound. Once it was revealed, Severus heaved a sigh of relief. It was not as bad as it had seemed at first. The Potions Master gathered his strength, and murmured a healing spell. A pale blue light covered the wound, and slowly, ever so slowly, it closed, leaving a long harsh scar behind.

Severus brushed a calming hand across Draco's forehead, and stood. He had a Horcrux to destroy.

He discovered the dagger in a decaying wooden box at the far end of the chamber. With trepidation he opened the box, half expecting some Dark curse to emerge. Nothing did. The dagger lay wrapped in a crumbling piece of parchment, the gold of the blade glimmering through the ragged paper. With trembling fingers, Severus drew the dagger out of the box. He carefully unwrapped the parchment and set it aside. This was the tricky part. There was a special spell that would remove the dagger's magical powers, and make it possible for Severus to melt it down.

He set the dagger on the earthen floor, and gently pressed his wand against the blade.

"_Trasmetta questa alimentazione di nuovo alla terra da dove é venuto." _he intoned, focusing all of his energy on the Horcrux before him.

The dagger began to shake and smoke as Severus poured all of his energy into the Horcrux. A sickly yellow light exploded from the small weapon and disappeared into the floors and walls. The spell was finished, and the dagger was ready to be melted.

Wearily, Severus pointed his wand at the dagger once more, this time for a simple spell.

"_Incendio"_ he whispered.

The dagger burst into flame, the metal glowing red hot for several moments before losing it's shape and becoming a gold puddle. With a sigh, the former Death Eater raised his foot and brought it down hard on the emerald hilt. It shattered, and the pieces of the stone disintegrated into nothingness.

It was done, and hundreds of miles away, Harry Potter passed out in the middle of a bite of shepherd's pie, as Voldemort's rage echoed in his head.

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Review please! Let me know what you think!

And the spell that Severus used was in Italian.  
"Send this power back to the earth from whence it came"  
(I used an internet translator, so I'm sure the Italian isn't right.)


	3. Help from Slytherins

Disclaimer: These characters are the sole property of JK Rowling. I do not own them.

I love my reviewers! Thank you so much for your input!

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Chapter 3

Harry woke in the hospital wing of Hogwarts feeling rather confused. There was a lingering ache in his head, and as he slid his glasses back onto his nose, he mulled over the strange occurrence. He recognized Voldemort's screams of rage. He heard and felt them every time he destroyed a Horcrux. But he had not destroyed a Horcrux since the pouch of crushed bone. Why would Voldemort be raging about the loss of another Horcrux if he, Harry, had not destroyed one?

Naturally it did not occur to our hero that perhaps someone else had disposed of a part of the Dark Lord's soul. Harry had gotten rather accustomed to doing the dirty work alone. Bitterness welled up in his chest for a moment before he pushed back. It would do no good to blame the Order for their lack of usefulness.

The door to the hospital wing swung open revealing Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. The peace of the hospital was disturbed as Harry's 3 friends rushed to his side.

"Are you alright Harry?" Ginny asked, her brown eyes alight with concern. She took hold of one of his hands and squeezed it gently. He returned the gesture and gave his friends a rather sheepish smile.

"Ya. Old Voldy got me again."

Hermione whipped out a blue spiral notebook and flipped to an empty page. Harry rolled his eyes as she uncapped a ball point pen and prepared to write.

"What did you see Harry?" she probed, pen at the ready.

Harry was struck by how much like Rita Skeeter his friend looked in that moment. Thankfully he was able to hold back his snort of amusement. He was sure Hermione would be offended by the reference.

Trying to dodge the question, Harry looked down at the gray coverlet.

"No comment?" he tried.

"Harry..." Hermione chided. "The Order needs to know."

Harry scowled. He hated this. He hated how the Order pretty much ignored him unless he'd had a vision. Then they were all over him, wanting his help when only days before it was,

_"Harry you're too young to be involved. Enjoy the rest of your youth. Go back to Hogwarts."_

His scowl deepened. He was not a child anymore. This war against darkness had made him a man before his time.

"Harry, please?" Ginny tried, brushing her fingers across the back of Harry's hand.

Harry sighed in resignation. He detested the fact that even his non official girlfriend felt it her obligation to pry all of the details out of him.

"I didn't see anything."

He watched in morbid amusement as three faces fell from their expressions of anticipation.

"Harry, you can tell us mate." Ron said, giving Harry a gentle punch in the shoulder, his eyes betraying his worry.

"I didn't see anything." Harry repeated, feeling his irritation grow at the looks of disbelief on their faces. "Really, he was just angry about something."

"What?" Hermione probed, her pen scratching busily. Once again Harry thought of Rita Skeeter, only this time it wasn't amusing in the slightest.

In a surge of pique, Harry decided not to tell them his suspicions. It wasn't like they'd believe him anyway.

"I don't know." he hoped that his tone was firm enough to discourage more questions.

Unfortunately for Harry, Hermione didn't give up that easily.

"You must have some sort of idea." she pressed giving Harry a penetrating stare.

"No." he said shortly. "I don't."

"Harry..." Ginny again.

This time Harry ignored her gentle plea.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep." With that said, he rolled over and closed his eyes tightly. He waited until their footsteps had faded away and the sound of the hospital door closing was gone. Then he reached over to his nightstand for the parseltongue book that Hermione had given him. Maybe it would hold some clues.

It took a whole half an hour for Harry to decipher the sinuous script on the cover. The way the letters were twisted and twined together, made it very very difficult for his eyes to pick out the English words that his brain was substituting. Harry hoped that the longer he read, the easier it would get. He really didn't want to spend a half hour per sentence. In a flash of insight, Harry summoned a quill, ink, and a roll of parchment from his rooms. In iridescent green, Harry carefully wrote the title

_**Insights and Ideas as recorded by Salazar Slytherin and son Regan**_

A grin crossed his face. If there was anything about Horcruxes, he would find it here. With reverent caution, Harry opened the ancient book to the first page. The parseltongue lettering seemed to unwind as Harry concentrated. If he did not look at the line of script directly, he could make out the English translation hovering on the edge of his peripheral vision. Picking up his quill, he began the tedious process of copying the book.

_**Table of Contents**_

_The breeding of snakes (results of experiments, failed and successful) pg1_

_The effects of muggleborns on the wizarding bloodlines pg 150_

_Wandless Magic: Is it only a myth? pg 237 _

_Blood Magic pg 348_

_Misunderstood Potions pg 475_

_Immortality pg 500_

With a whoop, Harry eagerly began turning to the last section in the book. Immortality was exactly what Voldemort was trying to accomplish. Perhaps what he needed to finally destroy the Dark Lord was in this book. What an irony. The heir of Slytherin destroyed by his own forefathers' research. As he flipped through the crumbling pages, a heading caught his attention.

_**Marks of Loyalty**_

Harry raised an eyebrow, and wrote it down. Skimming through the handwritten paragraphs, Harry was interested to learn that the Dark Mark was a type of blood magic. It bound the servant's blood to that of the master. This allowed the servant to be quickly summoned in times of need. But what stunned Harry was that this marking of servants had been a popular device during feudal times. Slaves were branded with their master's mark, through which they could be summoned and/or punished. No wonder Voldemort had chosen to Mark his followers in that way. It was a statement of complete ownership.

There was a picture sketched at the bottom of the section of a serpent, it's breast pierced with a long sword twined around an ash tree. According to the side note, this was the Mark of the House of Slytherin.

Although it was fascinating, it was not particularly relevant to his needs, so Harry opened the book to the last section and began reading and transcribing once again.

The sun was beginning to go down, casting uneven shadows across the bed where Harry Potter struggled to decipher the last pages of Salazar's notebook. A persistent grinding ache behind his eyes, and the slowly diminishing light, convinced Harry that he really ought to let the rest of the chapter wait until the next day. He'd take his sheaf of notes and the book back to his flat first thing tomorrow morning, and there finish the translation. He gently closed the book, making a note of where he had left off. In a rare fit of neatness, Harry stacked his sheets of parchment neatly on the bedside nightstand and carefully capped his bottle of ink. Head buzzing with all of the new information he's learned, Harry lay back and closed his tired eyes. As he relaxed his muscles, the ache in his head subsided. He was floating on a haze of almost sleep when a sharp pain jolted through his earlobe.

"What the bloody hell?" he exclaimed sitting upright and putting his hand to his ear. It came away spotted with blood.  
An indignant hoot grabbed his attention. A large bedraggled owl stood, glaring at him, one leg extended. With a sigh, Harry relieved the bird of it's letter. Without waiting, the owl took off, swiping Harry with one wing on his way by. With a grumbled oath, Harry slit the grungy parchment open with a well bitten nail, and began reading.

_Potter:_

_Believe me when I say that this not something I enjoy having to do. Under normal circumstances, I would never even consider corresponding with you. But, these are not normal circumstances. _

_I know what you must think of me, and I'd have to agree with your assessment of my character, however, I am not the Death Eater you believe me to be. Draco Malfoy and I have been traveling in Wales and have destroyed a Horcrux. _

_It is therefore my duty to tell you that I know the location and identity of the final Horcrux.  
Please meet Draco and I this Friday at midnight in the Shrieking Shack. It is vital that you receive this information._

_Severus Snape_

_Potions Master_

By the time that he finished the letter, Harry's teeth were grinding together in hate and anger. Snape, that bastard! Did he really think that Harry would so stupid as to fall right into their trap? Harry was no fool. He knew what Snape and Malfoy were. They were faithful followers of the Dark Lord. Harry pushed the nagging little thought that said that Malfoy hadn't been able to kill the Headmaster away. It was a known fact that Draco Malfoy was a coward.

However, Harry forced himself to look at the situation objectively. A Horcrux HAD been destroyed last night. It was possible, however unlikely that Snape had been the one to do it. More likely was the idea that Voldemort had faked the whole thing, knowing Harry's reaction, and it was an elaborate set up. With an exasperated sigh, Harry stood and gathered all of his papers and book. He strode to the fireplace and flooed back to his flat. After picking himself and his scattered papers up off the floor of his home, Harry made himself a smoothie and sat down to think. Harry really did need to know where the next Horcrux was. With the direction the war was going, he needed to hurry and destroy Voldemort. People were dying left and right and Harry had actually canceled his subscription to the Daily Prophet because there was always a death on the front page. But, was killing the Dark Lord worth walking right into a trap?

"But" a little voice in his head pointed out, "Is it a trap?"

Harry glared at the smooth surface of his kitchen table. Of course it was a trap. He wasn't going to trust Snape after 7 years of mistrusting the bastard.

"Dumbledore trusted him..." the voice said

"And Dumbledore is dead." Harry snarled back, tears trying to surface.

The mere thought of Dumbledore made Harry's guilt rise the surface again. He rolled his sleeve up absently and traced a finger over the still raw words on his arm. The desire to reinforce the reminder wormed it's way into his mind and Harry found himself summoning a small paring knife from the drawer next to the stove. He pressed the blade to the still red skin of his forearm. Before he had a chance to draw blood, a sudden thought occurred to him, and he let the knife slip through his fingers and clatter on the tabletop.

He needed to know where the Horcrux was there was no way around that fact. And Snape claimed to know. Harry slid his finger over the sharp edge of the knife and let the blood bead along the cut. He had no real reason to live anymore. The only thing he was good for was destroying Voldemort. He would go to the meeting, and if it was a trap, then he would die doing his best to fulfill his duty. Guilt assuaged, Harry sucked the blood from his finger and wrote Snape a reply.

* * *

Please review! I love hearing from you guys.


	4. The Meeting

**I'm back! It took a long time and I apologize. Hopefully this chapter will make up for my absense.**

**And as always, thanks for the reviews. :-)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. They belong to JK Rowling.**

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**Chapter 4**

Harry stepped into the Headmistress's office, carefully shielding his mind from the gentle mental probes the Order would no doubt send his way. The young man looked around him at the Order members gathered. They were all looking at him in anticipation. He forced down the bitterness of indignation. Here he was going voluntarily into the Dark Lord's mind, and they were sitting in comfortable chairs sipping tea as if they were at a horse race.

"Everyone" Harry said, putting his acting to use as he smiled fondly around the circle. "I am ready whenever you are."

Arthur Weasley clapped his hands together and gave Harry a bright smile.

"Excellent my boy," he pointed his wand and a paisley chaise appeared wedged between the avocado green couch the rest of the Weasley clan was occupying and the plaid lounge chair that Tonks was sprawled in.

With an internal sigh, Harry went to the offensive piece of furniture and lay down. He hated that Arthur felt that the entire Order needed to watch as he did his information gathering. It was more than a little disconcerting to have some 15 or 20 faces peering down at you and to smell on their breath whatever they had eaten for breakfast that morning.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to ignore the feel of the stares.

Harry entered the structured confines of his psyche and walked the hallways purposefully, heading for the back of his mind where the bolted and chained double thick door leading to Voldemort's mind waited. It took a concentrated effort for Harry to force the door open. Even with the keys, the door was reluctant to open. When it finally did, the black vortex of evil sucked Harry in and down long twisting tunnels of chaotic darkness. Bracing himself, Harry used all of his determination and stubbornness to veer off the path he was being dragged along. Once out of the mainstream he was able to determine his own path.

As Harry got closer to the center of Voldemort's filthy mind, he began to feel the emotions pouring off the Dark Lord. There was a confusing mix of hate, over whelming anger, and a sense of triumph. Confused by that last emotion, Harry focused on it. He flew toward the source of the triumph, the intensity of the feeling growing. There it was. Harry stopped and concentrated.

_Voldemort felt the upsurging of triumph. It overpowered even his anger and hatred for Severus and that Malfoy brat. The traitorous duo might have destroyed yet another horcrux, but there was still one left, and it was in a place that no one would expect. _

_Laughter burst from his throat, startling the Death Eaters gathered around him. He would remain immortal. There wasn't a person alive that would be willing to destroy the final horcrux. Even Harry Potter would fail in this one task. _

_Voldemort laughed again, a shrill expression of his twisted pride. The wizarding world would fall to his army of darkness and prophecy or no prophecy, Harry Potter would fail. _

"_My faithful!" Voldemort called, spreading his arms, "There is yet hope. We are not defeated! The final horcrux will never be destroyed, and we will rule this world forever!"_

_The cheers and cries for blood echoed through the dimly lit room and Voldemort closed his eyes and reveled in the power he felt. The horcrux would be safe for it was part of..._

Harry felt himself being yanked back along the tangled tunnels to his own mind. He screamed in frustration. He had almost discovered the location of the last horcrux! That was vital information and with it Harry would not have to meet with Snape and Malfoy. Damn Arthur and his infernal meddling! Harry woke with an angry retort on his lips and fire in his green eyes.

The members of the Order all jumped back as they saw the fierce anger in their hero's eyes.

"What did you see Harry?" Arthur asked, his eyes bright with anticipation.

Harry snarled, his fists opening and closing spasmodically, "I almost discovered the location of the final horcrux, but someone didn't think that I could handle it! Do you realize what you've done? I could've ended this war within the week if you hadn't interfered! Damn you Weasley! Damn you."

Harry stormed from the office and down the staircase letting his anger carry him out of the school and across the grounds. He was so lost in his fury that he didn't notice the students that practically ran out of his path. The wet grass smacked against his shins as he strode through the Forbidden Forest. A clearing materialized out of nowhere and Harry drew his wand and took his anger out on the trees and stumps and any small animal that crossed into his line of sight.

* * *

Severus added the last ingredient to the battered cauldron simmering on the small fire. The color changed as he stirred anti clockwise. 

Draco peered into the cauldron and wrinkled his nose, "Do we really have to drink that?"

Severus rolled his eyes and nodded shortly, "I did not steal all of these ingredients for nothing Draco."

The potion bubbled and popped, a foul smell rising with the steam.

"But..." Draco whined.

"But nothing!" Severus snapped. "We are fugitives. Do you really think that we could just walk into Hogsmeade? We cannot be seen as ourselves, so we will be seen as someone else. That is what the Polyjuice is for."

Draco sighed, but he could see the logic behind his godfather's argument. It was true. They could not just walk into town anymore. He nodded in resignation and watched as Severus ladled the gloop into two canteens. The potions master reached into his inner pocket and withdrew 2 hairs. He put one into each canteen and handed one to Draco.

With a grimace, Draco peered into the small mouth of the bag. A smell like rotting roses and burned chocolate drifted to his nose, cause him to sneeze in disgust. He looked up at his god father for the go ahead. Severus nodded, and as one the two men took a large swallow of the potion. Draco gagged as the thick liquid slid down his throat. In seconds Draco's body began changing. He could feel his bones grinding into new positions and his muscles liquefying. It was an agonizing minute and a half. When he was done changing, Draco ran his hands over his new body. His eyes widened.

"Severus!" he screamed in rage. Then he screamed again when he realized that not only was his body that of a skinny girl, so was his voice.

Severus doubled over in laughter, his new voice wheezing and cracking, "You should see your face!"

Draco felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as Severus, still laughing, transfigured his tattered robes into sky blue robes with a definite feminine cut.

"Don't forget Draco, drink every hour or our cover is destroyed." Severus said seriously, "Come."

The two men walked down the road and into town for the first time in a year to await Harry Potter.

* * *

Friday came all to quickly for Harry. Despite his resolve, he really did not to meet Snape or Malfoy. He was afraid that his temper would take over and he would kill them both before getting the information he needed. Knowing his weakness, Harry slowly and methodically gathered his anger and hatred and hid it away behind a thick door in his mind. Hopefully the blocks would hold until the meeting was over. 

A knock came at his door, and Harry waved the door open with a hand. Ron and Hermione practically fell into the room and Harry allowed himself a small smile.

"I can't believe that you are going to go with us Harry!" Ron exclaimed, a huge smile lighting his freckled face. Hermione nodded in agreement, her brown eyes shining.

Harry sighed and forced a smile. "Yes, it has been too long. I wonder what new things Zonko's will have in their shop." Ron and Hermione were Harry's cover. They were going to spend the afternoon in Hogsmeade and Harry was going to get a room at the Three Broomsticks for the night on the pretense that he was planning on coming to the Quidditch match tomorrow.

He grabbed his cloak and allowed his friends to drag him out into the sunshine. The walk to town was filled with Ron and Hermione's cheerful conversation and Harry's occasional comment. The sun was shining and the birds were singing, but despite the beauty of the day, Harry could not shed the feeling that something was wrong. He pushed it away, determined to enjoy the day.

The first stop was Zonko's where Ron went crazy, and Harry pretended to care about the newest tricks and gag gifts. Hermione just smiled indulgently and watched her boys play, not even suspecting that all was not well with Harry and had not been for some time.

Honeydukes was next on the list and here all three of them gathered up handfuls of candy and chocolate. There was something for everyone in this store.

As the three friends left the store, bags in hand, Harry caught sight of a skinny girl in blue robes and a heavyset man staring at him. They both wore looks of extreme dislike, and their intense gaze made a shiver run down Harry's spine. Harry gratefully went into the Three Broomsticks after his friends, hoping that he would never see those two again.

The afternoon ended all too soon and the sun began to go down, signaling the end of the day. Harry saw his two friends off to Hogwarts before going up to his room and collapsing on the bed for a much needed nap before his midnight confrontation.

* * *

Snape and Draco situated themselves in the Shrieking Shack a couple of hours before midnight to allow the Polyjuice to wear off before Potter showed up for the meeting. Heedless of the dust and grime of many years, the two men sat down to wait. 

Right at midnight the door creaked open. Snape was instantly on his feet, wand at the ready.

There was no one there.

"Potter," Severus sneered, "Take off that ridiculous cloak of yours and talk to us face to face."

There was a shimmer and Harry Potter appeared. Severus felt a ripple of shock. This was not the same Potter that he remembered. This Potter was haunted and much to old for his age. There was evidence of his depression etched on his face and in his eyes.

"Snape." Potter said simply in a voice devoid of feeling. He turned and saw Draco seated on a rickety chair, "Malfoy."

A shiver of unease went through Severus. He had been expecting blind hatred, not this cold uncaring reaction.

"Come in Potter. We must talk." He said, allowing a little respect to bleed into his voice.

He was gratified to see surprise flicker in those green eyes.

Potter nodded and came in, taking a seat on the edge of the torn mattress. Severus sat on another unstable chair next to Draco and cleared his throat.

"We know the location of the final horcrux." he began. "You won't like it," he withdrew the piece of aged parchment from his pocket and opened it. "Voldemort was really clever when he created this particular horcrux. It's something that no one would expect and something that no one would destroy."

Harry shifted on the bed, his feeling of unease growing with every word that Snape said.

"Just tell me Snape. I will destroy it."

Snape nodded and took a breath, "It is you Harry. You are the final horcrux."


	5. The End

I bet you all thought I'd never get this out. But I did, surprising even myself.

This is the next to last chapter. Enjoy it.

And thanks for the reviews, few though they might be.

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**Chapter 5**

The silence stretched on for many minutes as Harry's weary mind tried to grasp the meaning of the words he had just heard. His eyes showed nothing of the whirlwind of emotion and thought that was currently tearing up his inner walls and peace. His first reaction was to scream in rage and hurt. It wasn't fair. What had he done to deserve this? All he wanted was to have a normal life like everyone else. Why had Voldemort picked him? His second reaction was the one that lingered the longest. Relief. What did he have to live for anyway? All he was good for was to destroy the Dark Lord after all. That was why he hadn't died as an infant. Understanding and clarity dawned like the morning sun rising and banishing the shadows from the land. This was what the prophecy meant. He could finally end this horror that was his life without letting everyone down.

Harry looked at the two men anxiously watching him. He smiled the first real smile he'd smiled in a long time. A chuckle escaped at the expressions of shock on Snape's face. Draco just looked at him like he'd lost his mind which, Harry decided was probably true. A giddy sense of relief and happiness coursed through him, but Harry composed his features and asked his one question.

"How did this happen?"

Snape looked relieved to hear an intelligent query coming from his former student.

"When the Killing Curse meant for you rebounded and hit the Dark Lord, a part of him was left in you which is why you can speak parseltounge, and why you have the mind connection with him. It's obvious now that the reason this happened is because of the small portion of his soul that was transferred to you."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. It made a strange sort of sense. An internal smile grew as he considered the rage Voldemort must have felt when he realized that he had accidentally created a Horcrux.

The silence lengthened as Harry pondered this new revelation.

Malfoy was becoming frustrated with the lack of response, and showed it by glaring at Harry and clearing his throat.

"Well? What are you going to do?"

Harry looked at the blond man leaning against the wall and shrugged.

"Kill myself of course."

He frowned, missing the looks of almost horror that crossed Malfoy's face at his casual declaration.

"But if I do that… then who will kill him?" he mused aloud. "I'd need someone to kill him as soon as I was dead."

Snape felt a wave of pity as he surveyed the broken Harry Potter that stood before him. For that was what he was. Broken. That was the only explanation for his casual almost relieved acceptance of his impending death. Harry Potter wanted to die.

"I'll do it." He found himself saying, "I'll kill the Dark Lord."

Draco gave his mentor and father figure a surprised but understanding look and then turned expectantly to Harry.

Harry stared into Snape's dark eyes searching for sincerity. The potion's master opened his mind to allow Harry to probe his motivations.

Harry did so and found the reassurances that he needed.

"Alright." Harry nodded. "We need a plan of action."

"You mean to do this as soon as possible I hope." Snape said no trace of his usual sneer on his face.

Harry nodded again.

"In the morning meet me here at 10am. I can manipulate old Voldy thru the link, and we can end this once and for all."

The other men agreed and left as silently as they had arrived leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

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Harry walked slowly back to The Three Broomsticks allowing his mind to wander over his memories. He would miss Ron and Hermione. They had been his first and only friends. They had stood by him through it all. Harry tried not to think of how his death would affect his friends. He felt a stab of guilt at abandoning them. But at the same time he was smug that he had found a way to leave his life behind and still live up to the expectations of his friends and adopted family. There would be little regret for Harry Potter. He was tired and depressed and sick of living.

As he reached his room, Harry decided to leave notes for all of his dearest friends. He wanted them to know that he loved them. He sharpened his quill and opened a new bottle of ink. The words flowed easily and it was hours before he finally found his way into slumber, but a stack of fresh letters sat on the desk charmed to be delivered upon his death.

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The morning dawned clear and cool. The dew glinted on the leaves and the sun warmed the earth after the cold night. There was not a hint in nature of the forthcoming confrontation between good and evil. The birds sang and people woke as always.

Harry Potter awoke slowly, determined to enjoy his last few hours of life. He dressed carefully and went down to the pub and ate a hearty breakfast, smiling at every patron.

There was no outward sign that this would be the last time anyone would see The-Boy-Who-Lived alive.

After gorging himself, Harry waved goodbye to Rosmerta and ambled down the road to the Shrieking Shack. He climbed the split rail fence and walked through the overgrown grass to the ramshackle house. He entered and greeted the two Slytherins.

After a quick explanation, Harry lay on the dusty bed and closed his eyes. The hallways of his mind appeared as always, and he made his way down the hall to the locked door. With a smile he pried the lock off the door and let the chains fall to the floor. The door swung wide and Harry embraced the darkness that swept him out of his mind and into the mind of evil. Instead of trying to see out of Voldemort's eyes, Harry drifted along in the tangled maze of the Dark Lord's mind gently suggesting that Harry Potter was alone and vulnerable in Hogsmeade. The silvery threads of suggestion fell and stuck to the dark tangles of Voldemort's mind. How long he drifted, Harry did not know, but finally he felt it. The Dark Lord had fallen for the carefully constructed suggestions. Harry gave a silent whoop and with a conscious effort, forced himself back into his own mind. He walked back down the hallway of him mind for the last time bidding farewell to the familiar doors and memories.

Harry's eyes opened suddenly and he sat up, startling his companions.

"He is coming."

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Severus tried to keep his hands from trembling. Soon it would all be over. Soon he would be free. He glanced over at Draco, who was paler than usual and clutching his wand for dear life, but looked determined. Potter sat on the edge of the bed, calm and composed. Severus could not understand how he could face his death with such poise. Severus knew that had it been him, he'd have been vomiting from fear.

Suddenly the sounds of screams reached them. Harry stood without speaking and the two Slytherins followed suit. They followed the boy hero out of their sanctuary and into the town. Smoke and flames billowed from rooftops, and masked figures dealt death to any and all that crossed their paths. The street was littered with the dead and dying bodies of the innocent townspeople. As the three men approached, Aurors were apparating in and trying to push back the Death Eaters, but there were too few Aurors and too many followers of Voldemort. Soon the bodies of the Aurors joined the ones already bleeding on the ground. Harry stopped in the middle of the street, ignoring all around him. All he could see was Voldemort. The Dark Lord was standing amidst the remains of Honeydukes laughing as he watched the destruction.

"VOLDEMORT!" Harry bellowed.

The Dark Lord turned and an triumphant smile crossed his face.

"POTTER!" he screamed back and watched in delight as the boy drew his wand and approached him.

The battle continued on around them, hexes and curses crisscrossing as they found their intended victims, but Harry walked through them as if they were no more than insects. Snape followed, occasionally shooting off a curse at a Death Eater that ventured to close.

"_Crucio_!" Voldemort called, pointing his wand at Harry.

The dark haired youth fell to the ground writhing in pain, but not a sound escaped him. Harry withdrew into his mind as the pain continued for what seemed like centuries. Eventually it ended and Harry forced himself to his feet. He sent a mocking smile in the direction of the Dark Lord.

"I found the last Horcrux Tom."

Voldemort's eyes flashed in anger and a little bit of fear. But he laughed high and long.

"You would never destroy it. It is too precious to the world."

Harry laughed as well, his eyes cold and without emotion.

"Precious to the world maybe. But not to me."

He raised his wand as if to curse the Dark Lord, but then turned it on himself. He let the tip of it rest against his throat for a moment in order to enjoy the terror on Voldemort's face.

"_Imperius."_ Voldemort shouted in desperation.

The curse hit Harry full on, but he shrugged off the fog it created in his mind and smiled again.

"Nice try Tom. But once again you lose."

As Harry opened his mouth to say the words that would end his life, he heard twin cries of despair.

He turned slightly and saw Hermione and Ron rushing toward him. They were bloodied and weary, but the sight of their best friend holding his own wand to his throat gave them strength.

Harry gave them a heartbreakingly beautiful smile and he mouthed,

"Goodbye."

Turning his back on his only friends, Harry looked right into the eyes of evil and said the words.

The light left his eyes and his wand slipped from his lifeless fingers and rolled to rest at the feet of his disbelieving friends.

A rush of wind as the last piece of Voldemort's soul broke free from it's prison surrounded the area and complimented the scream of terror that tore loose from the Dark Lord's throat.

Severus Snape stepped forward wand drawn, as the last bit of Voldemort's soul was destroyed.

"Goodby my Lord." He sneered. "_Avada Kedavra."_


End file.
